Flashback Friday: "Marriage and Sex: Observations on the male sex drive"

Can anyone come up with a better name than "Flashback Fridays" for when I reprint older posts because I love them so and they would like to be shown off again? :)

As I weave my sexuality back together, I can't help but envy Mr. Hall. Or men in general. Apparently, all it takes to become aroused is consciousness. And if they are near the one who reciprocates the love, then it is unbridled, this arousal. This is especially true for Mr. Hall.

There was an incident, about six years ago, when I was about four months preggos. Chubby, but not obviously pregnant. Pregnancy induced horrible cystic acne. Short boy hair cut (don't ask). Still throwing up. Mr. Hall and I had spent the day at a water park. Me being chubby, horrible cystic acne and short boy hair cut. I felt fugly. And when we got home, he began chasing me around. What the hell?, I thought. Can't you see me? What has gotten into you? And he said, "I've been staring at you all day, I just couldn't wait to get home."

That is when I realized---my husband has permanent love goggles on.

Some five years and two kids later, it remains much the same. Saturday was a day of filling sippy cups, braiding hair, mowing lawns, laundry, blah blah blah domestic bliss blah blah. And we fall into bed. And the chasing begins in earnest. What the heck? I think. And I ask, "What was so arousing today? Was it something I wore? " I mean, I do look good these days, what with the 35 lb weight loss. And I cannot say enough about the wonderbra. But no, none of this was the ticket. Although it does help, he said.

"It was just being around you, sorry it's not more complicated", he said smiling.

My husband is awesome. I need to follow this lead. To be aware of how much he is to me and all the places he excites me. Letting the love flow around me at all times. Not just when I let it. Hee hee. Married sex is fun.

Have a good weekend everyone :)

Holy Prophesy Batman!

Again, last weekend was spent cleaning out our house, sorting and tossing. Getting it ready for sale.

So much was unearthed in terms of records and recordings of our past.

One of the boxes, all about my failings as a girlfriend is documented here.

There is so much stuff, so much to blog about!! It'll come soon enough.

For now, let me just say, I felt a little cold coming on before we started sorting and tossing. And all this sorting and tossing was done in a very drafty, cold and wet house. As a result, I have been very sick. Also, I have struggled for two days to get my voice back.

I'm all squeaky like one of those munchins from the Wizard of Oz and tonal like the Brady kid when his voice changed. Which is funny to my patients as I ask them,

"ARE YOU HAVING ANY SIDE EFFECTS FROM THE MEDICATION?"

And I am screaming this, only it is coming out a croaked whisper. They laugh as I struggle to talk. Fun times had by all :)

Maybe I should take a day off.

Nah, screw that, they won't get my precious precious sick days. No, no!! Those are to be used for fun! Besides, the voice is 25% back. And I feel fine . . . (denial of a mother . . not taking care of self . . ) REALLY I'M JUST FINE!!! :)

My precious precious . . . .

Ok so, the BEST FIND THIS WEEKEND!!!!!

A box of correspondence that contained emails Mr. Hall and I exchanged when we started dating. We met online and lived about 2 hours apart for the first year or so of our relationship. Lots of email was flying back and forth. I will wait to read them. They will be savored slowly.

I did find a card I gave to Mr. Hall the night before we got married. It is a greeting card and has cheery greeting card stuff on it.

But, what I wrote, well, holy shit!! Take a look!!

"Jeff-tomorrow I will be your wife and officially Mrs. Hall. And I will strive to live up to the gloriousness of that name!!!

Love-Holly"

Dang!!!!

Guess I have always had a thing for that moniker, Mrs. Hall. And yes, I have indeed lived up to the gloriousness. :)

Please leave a message after the beep . . . .

Daddy (Mr. Hall) and the wee baby Pancake


We are at the house we own, sorting tossing, getting it ready for sale. The posts will have to wait a bit :)

Thank you for everyone that is helping me develop a reader's favorite corner by letting me know some of your favorite posts. And thank you and you and you for reading what ever you read-thank you again :)

Keep 'em coming!!! Lots of room in the Hall Hall of fame!!

In the meantime, THINK SUMMER!!!

COWABUNGA MAN!!

Pick your favorite post, not your nose!

Earl, the Verdant Dude himself (click here) has reached his 500th post. It took him about four years.

I have been blogging for about 9 months now, I am up to 246.

Jesus.

I am a bit scared to see how big this blog will be in four years.

And what the heck did I do with all of it BEFORE I started Mrs. Hall?

Well, sent long emails a lot. Well, I still send long emails, sorry about that ;)

But, I am thinking that I need to spiff the place up a bit. Create a space for reader's favorites. To help the newbies see the best and brightest of Mrs. Hall.

SO BY ALL MEANS

In the comments-let me know which post you liked a lot-no need to strain your brain for the title or exact content-just a general jist should do the trick!

OR-and I just thought of this-tell me one you absolutely did NOT like. hee hee.

And the reward? Well, I'll do an indepth review of your blog and exhault it's virtues here!

HAVE A GOOD WEEKEND AND ONCE AGAIN,

WE REALIZE YOU HAVE LOTS OF CHOICES IN THE BLOGOSPHERE, THANK YOU FOR FLYING AIR HALL!

The real story about the spank from Mr. Hall

Since this appears to be the week of Mr. Hall, perhaps it is time to tell the real story of the time Mr. Hall gave Mrs. Hall a spank. This story, sort of a fib/metaphor based on the real story.

This is the real story of the spank.

Pancake must have been about eight months old. That means were married about eight months +nine months (17 months total). A very young marriage indeed.

We planned a getaway to Las Vegas. It was my first time there. Very happy and giggly was I. I danced around a lot, pretending I was Vegas Showgirl with a fancy headdress. Things changed about three days before we left.

I began to endlessly worry about two things:

1. Making sure Mr. Hall mailed something the Saturday we were to leave. I can't remember why it had to be mailed THAT Saturday, be it absolutely had to be mailed THAT SATURDAY!!!

2. Arriving at the air port two hours before our flight. This was the national, post 9-11 recommendations for all who travelled via air plane. TWO HOURS!!!

My obsession with these items grew steadily and unchecked during the Wednesday, Thursday and Friday before our departure. Obsession. I was kind of like a parrot, repeating my instructions over and over.

"Make sure we wake up in time, we have to get there two hours ahead of time. And make sure you mail that thing!!!"

The Saturday morning comes. Mr. Hall gets out of bed about 1 hour and forty five minutes before the flight. I am livid. I hover like a bee, crazily buzzing. Telling him over and over and over, we have to get there, we are already late.

I can still see him at our old computer desk. Printing out our flight confirmations. Sipping coffee and ignoring me. Putting the thing that needs to be mailed in an envelope. I am livid but silent. I march away in a silent huff.

I take the luggage, put it in the car, start the car, come back in, he's still sitting there.

NOT DRESSED!!!

I get his clothes, put them next to the computer desk. He dresses.

Then, he looks right at me and says, "huh, I think we have to stop and get stamps so we can mail this."

A brick of dynamite goes off in my chest. I am reeling.

I push in front of him, my back is to him, my hands have grabbed the envelope.

"MOTHERFUCKER!!" I spit through clenched teeth.

That’s when he spanked me. It was a quick, swift and surgical smack. Right on the kisser. It hurt and I buckled.

We didn't talk the entire 2 hour flight to Vegas. I was pissed beyond belief.

When we touched down, we finally spoke.

Turns out, a lot of my anxiety and obsession was unwarranted. The thing that needed to be mailed, didn't need to be mailed that Saturday. And the airport we left from, well, it's a little airport. And we only had carry on bags. And we only lived about 5 minutes away from the airport. We got there about 30 minutes before the flight and that was plenty of time.

Of course, all my anxiety could have been diffused if Mr. Hall had helped me understand the reality of the situation. But, the more I obsessed and got bossy, the more he shut down and said nothing. Which only made me get more obsessed and bossy.

The final straw though, was the swear. We have a strict policy in the house of Hall against swearing and negative words. Even before we had kids we promised to elevate our communication above the use of foul language. Also, swearing is a pet pea with Mr. Hall.

He, to this day, regrets the spank. I regret the spank. Well, not really. It broke up a pattern of communication that was beginning to cement itself in our marriage. It gave us cause to pause.

And I am glad to say, there has not been a spank before or since. Unless requested of course. (and really, I don't request it, I mean, jebus, that hurts!!)

The secrets of Mr. Hall

On a long, late night drive, I was trying to think of things to talk about with Mr. Hall. We had three hours to go and the kids were fast asleep. We had been married about 6 years at that point. All told, eight years together.

I usually try to play 'word association' but this is no good. My husband traffics in logic and concrete connections. There is no looseness to his thoughts. Silliness maybe, but no looseness.

So I asked him to tell me something he had never told me before. He agreed on the condition that I go first. This was really hard. I talk a lot (surprise) and really hold nothing back in terms of my personal stuff (even bigger surprise). I had to dig super deep to find anything he didn't already know.

I can tell you what I said, but if you wait long enough, I am sure it will come out here, in the blog.

Then, he proceeded to tell me a secret. And I was gobsmacked!

Turns out, Mr. Hall has all sorts of private things he doesn't tell me. It's not for the lack of asking mind you, I ask him all sorts of things. He kind of filters his own information, decides what he wants to verbally communicate and what he can express in other ways. This is not a conscious process.

Everything he feels or experiences doesn't always translate into words. Or maybe they are held in a holding tank, waiting to be turned into words, then diverted to other areas in his body. Either way, all of this leads to secrets he has from me.

Which is crazy really. I mean, I am his wife. We have been married over eight years at this point. It drives me a little crazy thinking there are pockets of him I do not know about. And I know crazy.

Then I realize.

I know all about him, I can tell what he is thinking by the way he is breathing. Even with my eyes closed.

He demands so little of me to make him happy. Words are just small part. There are so many non verbal ways to affect him. I practiced this on Sunday.

He was crankily and tiredly eating his lunch while the kids were crankily and tiredly eating theirs. I was cranky and annoyed. We had been stuck in the house, all getting ready for a nap.

I felt an overwhelming urge to change his mood. I wanted him happy. No amount of pleading, chanting or gentle cheerleading would make a dent. But, he did end up feeling very chipper very soon after. All accomplished without words.

Mel Brooks is a goddamn genius

This is Mel Brooks with a busty lady. GENIUS!! I don't know what movie this is though.

"The Producers" is a film that saved my sanity when my husband was overseas. And to this day, the kids very much enjoy the movie. Of course, they haven't seen all the movie. But, the parts they have seen, well!!! It was a gay old time had by all.

This is Max Bialystok. He is a swindler and a schmoozer.

This is Leo Bloom, an accountant who is unhappy.

Bloom has dreams of becoming a producer and having lunch at Sardie's every day.

He is also Max Bialystok's account. Max pounces on Leo, drawing him into a scheme to make a million dollars by producing a Broadway play. But, it must be a flop, an absolute disaster. Leo agrees! And their off!!!

Max raises the seed money by swindling old ladies. GENIUS!!

The look for a horrible play and even worse playwright. They find a playwright who loves Hitler. The playwright is nuts but undeniably earnest. He has written a musical called "Springtime for Hitler" as a loving tribute to his hero. Max becomes excited, people will be so offended at the play they will turn away and the play will be a flop. It's all coming together.

Uma Thurman joins the fun as German eye candy, singing and talking in broken English with heavy German accent. She becomes Leo's girlfriend. The most genius part of this character is towards the very end, when she is singing one of the last songs. Her accent, just briefly, every so slightly . . . . fades . . . just for a second though (wink wink).

Max and Leo consult a choreographer and costume designer to add flair to Spring Time for Hitler." The man above is his common law

assssssssssssssssssssiiiiiissssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssstant.

Sometimes, Pancake and I hiss our essess when we are being silly.

again GENIUS!!!

This is the costume designer, he ponders the whole thing, he stops, looks ill. He is having a stroke . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . of GENIUS!!! He has visions of the play, everyone decked out in feathers and tiaras. He vows to keep it gay, keep it gay, KEEP IT GAY!!

Genius!!

My daughter laughs at this shot. "That man is silly wearing a dress! "

again, GENIUS!!!

At the end of this scene everyone breaks out into a conga line.

And at my house, at random times I will yelp--CONGA!!! and Pancake and I will Conga. oh yes, we conga at the house of Hall. GENIUS!!!

The crazy yet earnest playwright was to play the lead role, but he broke his leg. The flaming gay choreographer takes his place.

And so, the play that was to be serious, lapses into satire and dammit, it's a hit!!

This causes trouble for our heroes.

They get jail time. And naturally produce a musical in there. The ending is quite good. I loved it all, really I loved this film.

And to think I never really wanted to watch it. Two years before I saw it, I saw a PBS documentary on the making of the cast recording of the Broadway play. I learned the basic plot lines there. I did purchase the cd and really loved it. So, I thought, no need to see the film, after all I had heard the music so many times.

I was so very very very very very very very very wrong.

Mel Brooks is a genius on so many levels I can't bring myself to list them all.

Just know, that man, is a goddamn genius.

Now you, you reader of Mrs. Hall, tell me what your favorite Mel Brooks film is.

and always, keep it gay, keep it gay, KEEP IT GAY!!!!

CONGA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!